


Early in the morning, in the morning, everything at once is ours

by oneforyourfire



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, blowjobs +feelings, chen lowkey begging because mathyung lbr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongdae is only really quiet in the early morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early in the morning, in the morning, everything at once is ours

**Author's Note:**

> for alina

Jongdae is only really quiet in the early morning, like maybe his voice hasn’t quite caught up with body, or like he's still trying to figure out volume works and can only beg in whispers, moan in hisses, rasp out Minseok's name like a prayer and a plea. 

His movements are more sluggish in the early morning, too, clumsier but still exquisitely familiar, muscle memory in action, his arms winding around Minseok's shoulders, his lips latching on his throat, his hardening cock dragging over Minseok's thigh. 

Splayed open and wanting and disconcertingly quiet on Minseok's bed, Jongdae lolls his head back with the softest, most vulnerable, most beautiful moan. The shuddery exhalation burns hot near Minseok's temple, and Minseok grinds hard in response, rustling fabric catching on rustling fabric as he angles his hips more deliberately. 

And Jongdae is somehow even quieter then, a barely audible whimper for more, like the pleasure, the early morning light, his sleepiness bleeds all of his volume out. Like all that he can manage are these soft, soft confessions and desperate quiet pleas for more, Minseok, hyung. 

Jongdae is so quiet—so _achingly_ quiet—but Minseok is louder like this, like maybe his filters haven't caught up with his body, like maybe he's still trying to figure out volume works and he just needs needs needs to tell Jongdae that he's gorgeous and that this feels so good and that he loves him, his favorite dongsaeng, his love, Jongdae, Jongdae, _Jongdae_. 

Jongdae’s responding moan is quiet but needy, hot. It sears its way across Minseok’s throat. It's followed by plush lips, blunt teeth, a fluttering tongue, and Minseok's hips stutter forth as he presses harder into the fleeting, fleeting caress, needing more, saying so with words. So many, many words as he tears at the offensive fabric separating Jongdae's warm, perfect skin from him. 

Groaning, openly, openly, openly praising, Minseok's palms skim Jongdae's nipples, the taper of his waist before anchoring on the jut of his hips, and Jongdae moans again in soft, soft encouragement. He underscores it with a heavy, succulent bite to Minseok's throat, and Minseok muffles his own moan—too fucking loud, so fucking telling and desperate and honest—against Jongdae’s trembling skin, mouthing over the constellation of moles dotting Jongdae's face, his throat, his chest, down down down. 

And Jongdae becomes even quieter, then, breath hitching sharply into a silent, aborted sob, blunt fingernails scraping over Minseok’s scalp, his arched spine as Minseok relearns him with small, soft kisses, smaller, softer bites. 

In his arms, beneath his lips, Jongdae's body trembles and writhes, falls steadily and silently apart. 

Minseok suckles Jongdae’s cock into his mouth, a cursory caress, and Jongdae gasps like he’s drowning, shudders so violently he kicks off several blankets and pillows, almost shakes Minseok completely off. 

But anticipating, Minseok clings tight, arms looping around Jongdae's thighs as he swirls his tongue around the engorged head of his, hums into the glide. 

Jongdae gasps again, shudders again, but Minseok doesn’t let go, doesn’t relent. He feels the tension rolling in the muscles beneath Jongdae’s soft, golden skin, his limbs locking as Minseok swallows him down. Less cursory this time, slicker, deeper, coupled with a moan that Minseok knows Jongdae can feel in his fucking bones. It’s deliberate attempt at devastation. 

Muscles shift as Jongdae tries to fuck into his mouth, and a soft whine filters through the slick, sloppy sounds of Minseok’s mouth. 

Minseok smiles into the next bob, swallows around a smirk, and heavy and hot on Minseok’s tongue, Jongdae pulses, jerks. Minseok relishes in the heft of it as it pushes into his mouth, in the helplessness of Jongdae’s silent, shivering response.

Fingers tangle themselves in his hair, weak as they tug, attempt to guide, but Minseok holds fast, grateful that Jongdae is too overcome with pleasure to control the pace, too dazed and desperate to properly beg his hyung to do it how he likes. Fast and sloppy so he can come messy and efficient and right fucking _now_ , Jongdae is always so greedy with his own orgasm and needs to come right fucking _now_ , hyung, please, please, please, doesn't Minseok want it for him, too. 

But no, not yet. Not like this. Not right now. 

Wanting to savor the experience, Minseok bobs steadily, takes more and more, easing Jongdae into a trembling, rumpled, needy mess of quivering limbs, quiet whimpers, tight tight tight and imploring fingers.

Minseok drags his lips, swirls his tongue on every retreat, tastes the heady heat of his want. 

If it were night, at this point, Jongdae would be screaming from pleasure and for more please please please, but as it is, he is only scratching Minseok’s skin red and raw, clawing his way closer and closer and closer to completion.

Now, in the early morning, strung tight and breathless and helpless, Jongdae doesn't have the presence of mind to whine about needing it, too. 

Minseok's gorgeous fucking cock. In his fist or in his mouth or in his ass, he's not picky, hyung. He just _needs_ it. It's his favorite fucking thing, doesn't Minseok want it, too. Isn’t Jongdae his favorite dongsaeng. Doens’t that mean he should get his cock when he wants it so fucking _much_. Fuck, hyung, _please_. 

Jongdae is no less desperate like this, but silent in his need, and Minseok can appreciate his tremors, his moans, the way he falls apart silent and soft and sweet just for him, his favorite hyung.

And Minseok is so hard he _aches_. So hard he's trembling, too. He ruts down onto the mattress, his cock catching on the soft material, dragging in a way that is nearly painful. But the friction is still too good, relief, absolute _necessary_. 

And Minseok can't quite stop his own alarming moans from spilling out after every slick glide on Jongdae's pulsing cock. Too loud, frayed at the edges, too. 

Jongdae's heaving cock in his mouth does little to muffle the sounds as he twists just right, hollows his cheeks in a way that has Jongdae nearly sobbing. 

Orgasm builds in the base of his spine, makes his skin tight, body hot, hot, hot as Jongdae stutterfucks weakly into his mouth, his lips parting around silent pleas, his chest heaving with his labored breathing.

The fingers are stronger briefly, painful painful painful, clenching tight when Minseok swallows hard, gags. 

Minseok trembles helplessly as he comes into his pants, chokes around a loud, loud groan. 

Shifting, Minseok uses his hand on Jongdae instead, mouthing at his balls as Jongdae fucks sharp and sloppy into his fist. 

Minseok drops a bite to his inner thigh, high enough to be hidden, deep enough to make pain bloom, and Jongdae moans—louder, finally, loud enough to make Minseok's skin prickle. It hitches into a drawn out weak, wet whimper—as he comes apart soft and sobbing. 

His body is overcome with receding tremors, tense muscles going loose and lax with pleasure, and Minseok drags his teeth, his tongue, his lips over the soft, sensitive skin of Jongdae’s inner thigh as Jongdae pants through his recovery. 

Weaker, quieter, ruined with pleasure, Jongdae drags him back up towards his mouth. 

There's still no bite to him like this, at least not yet. He’s all pliance, all perfection, as he sifts his fingers through Minseok’s probably disheveled hair.

His eyelids are heavy with satiation, lips bitten and red, throat heaving still as he tugs Minseok into a kiss. Sighing into it, he pushes his hand down Minseok's body, clumsy but deliberate. 

Minseok grabs his wrist to stop its descent, kisses him deeper so that Jongdae doesn't complain, and Jongdae melts into it as expected. 

Momentarily distracted, he still pulls away after four, five beats, sighing contently into the seam of Minseok’s mouth, lips curling as he cradles Minseok’s face with one hand, slides the other down Minseok’s front.

Minseok hisses at the contact, rasps out an “I already,” and he can feel the way that Jongdae’s smile changes. Sharper, hotter, smug. 

"That good, hyung?" he whispers, and his voice is raspy with early morning, soft with affection. "That hot?"

“Yes,” Minseok concedes, and it softens again. Jongdae’s thumb drag along the lax lines of his shoulders. 

Though utterly content to be held and wanted like this in the cradle of Jongdae’s warm body, Minseok’s mind still aches to right the mess, fingers still ache to wipe their bodies off, toss their clothes in the hamper, make themselves more decent before falling back asleep. 

But Jongdae isn’t having it, and Minseok isn’t in the mood to argue. 

Jongdae, humming in contentment, knows he’s won. 

“Sing me to sleep,” he whispers into Minseok’s neck. “ Come on, a lullaby,” he presses, and Minseok laughs into his cheekbone, tastes the receding blush of arousal and satiation as he murmurs softly into his skin. 

"You are my sunshine," he starts, and Jongdae huffs out a laugh but lets him continue, melting further back into the sheets, dragging Minseok with him. His eyelashes flutter against the column of his throat. 

“Your only sunshine.”

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a tweetfic on the subway home, but +1200 it's a full fic, ig
> 
> anyways, first xiuchen. tell me what you think, yeah?


End file.
